Breakfast I
TWWKMTS and I went to breakfast Saturday morning.
(Over the Ditch Cafe, if you must know... A Blackstone Benedict for Yours Truly, whilst The Woman enjoyed a light and fluffy omelet. Try the hash brown casserole - even better than Cracker Barrel's version of the same, and that's saying something.)
While we were enjoying breakfast, a man came in and walked through the dining area and back to the restroom. As is typical of "fashion" the young man was wearing a track suit, the pants of which were drooping so low that the rear belt line was below his ass.
TWWKMTS: "Apparently he's not familiar with the concept of the drawstring."
This "fashion" statement drives me out of my mind...
Hey, young urban youths:
PULL UP YOUR FUCKING PANTS.
No one wants to see your underwear.
Now, in Florida they've passed some legislation that "outlaws" stupid fashion statements.
I don't know if they've ever brought someone up on charges of "indecent exposure of boxers" or some such BS; I think it's a waste of money, brains and time to try to legislate intelligence...
I think a more instructive method of behavior modification should be used.
I told TWWKMTS that then next time I saw one of these idiots that I would pick up the nearest bludgeon-like device and approach said mentally-challenged youth.
It would go something like this:
Yours Truly would address SumYute with the crotch of his knickers hanging somewhere around his knees and the waistline somewhere sub-scrotum and poke said Yute with the makeshift shillelagh to get his attention.
YT: "Hey, Dumbass."
SumYute: "W-wh-whut?"
YT: "Since you don't know how to wear your clothes, in 4 seconds I'm going to beat some fashion sense into you. Run. RUN YOU STUPID BASTARD!"
At this point, it can go two ways.
1. Mr. SumYute will start to run, get his feet tangled in his pantaloons and wind up face-down on the pavement. Beating will commence and cease when I feel his fashion sense and the wisdom of wearing clothes in the manner which they were designed has been sufficiently adjusted.
-or-
2. Mr. SumYute will repeat his question... "Wh-what?" consuming his head start time and I will commence to beating him immediately, hoping that he will come to his senses and start to run, learning the folly of his way as his feet try to help, but are hindered by his stupid fashion decision. Beating shall resume, hoping to imbue some fashion sense and perhaps a bit of self preservation.
After all when an cudgel-bearing ogre tells your skinny, hip-hop ass to run, if your fashion statement prohibits your movement, then perhaps you are too stupid to be contaminating the gene pool.
TBG- ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒE
TWWKMTS and I went to breakfast Saturday morning.
(Over the Ditch Cafe, if you must know... A Blackstone Benedict for Yours Truly, whilst The Woman enjoyed a light and fluffy omelet. Try the hash brown casserole - even better than Cracker Barrel's version of the same, and that's saying something.)
While we were enjoying breakfast, a man came in and walked through the dining area and back to the restroom. As is typical of "fashion" the young man was wearing a track suit, the pants of which were drooping so low that the rear belt line was below his ass.
TWWKMTS: "Apparently he's not familiar with the concept of the drawstring."
This "fashion" statement drives me out of my mind...
Hey, young urban youths:
PULL UP YOUR FUCKING PANTS.
No one wants to see your underwear.
Now, in Florida they've passed some legislation that "outlaws" stupid fashion statements.
I don't know if they've ever brought someone up on charges of "indecent exposure of boxers" or some such BS; I think it's a waste of money, brains and time to try to legislate intelligence...
I think a more instructive method of behavior modification should be used.
I told TWWKMTS that then next time I saw one of these idiots that I would pick up the nearest bludgeon-like device and approach said mentally-challenged youth.
It would go something like this:
Yours Truly would address SumYute with the crotch of his knickers hanging somewhere around his knees and the waistline somewhere sub-scrotum and poke said Yute with the makeshift shillelagh to get his attention.
YT: "Hey, Dumbass."
SumYute: "W-wh-whut?"
YT: "Since you don't know how to wear your clothes, in 4 seconds I'm going to beat some fashion sense into you. Run. RUN YOU STUPID BASTARD!"
At this point, it can go two ways.
1. Mr. SumYute will start to run, get his feet tangled in his pantaloons and wind up face-down on the pavement. Beating will commence and cease when I feel his fashion sense and the wisdom of wearing clothes in the manner which they were designed has been sufficiently adjusted.
-or-
2. Mr. SumYute will repeat his question... "Wh-what?" consuming his head start time and I will commence to beating him immediately, hoping that he will come to his senses and start to run, learning the folly of his way as his feet try to help, but are hindered by his stupid fashion decision. Beating shall resume, hoping to imbue some fashion sense and perhaps a bit of self preservation.
After all when an cudgel-bearing ogre tells your skinny, hip-hop ass to run, if your fashion statement prohibits your movement, then perhaps you are too stupid to be contaminating the gene pool.
TBG- ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒE
1 comment:
I saw this taken to the next illogical step in Boston. Sum Yute had the crotch of his pants at about 6-8 inches from the ground to the point where he had to do a 'Dorf-hop' to get onto the subway since he couldn't bend his knees enough to use the stairs properly.
For myself, I would think that it would cut down on crime because the yutes in question can't run and hold up their drawers at the same time.
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